RIP Duncan
by Cygna Vamp
Summary: In this fic I kill Duncan! Mwua ha ha ha! (Takes place right after Strategy X)


R.I.P Duncan  
  
Summary: What if right after the events of Strategy X Duncan got hit by a bus? X Evo fans everywhere cheer! Mixture of angst and humor,   
  
if you can believe it.  
  
"So, this is what you call football?" Kurt asked Scott as they watched the game from the   
  
bleachers.  
  
"Yeah." he answered. "Do they have football in Germany?"  
  
"Sort of. It's not like this, though. The ball is black and white and you can't use your   
  
arms."  
  
"Soccer.(1)" said Jean. "That's what we call that sport in America. I'm on the soccer team   
  
myself."  
  
Scott noticed a slender greenish hand snaking between the bleachers, swiping a wallet.   
  
"Dammit, Tolensky," he said, shaking his head. "I thought you learned your lesson. 'Scuse me,   
  
guys, I gotta make sure Toad doesn't get his ass handed to him again."  
  
"Let me do it, Scott!" Kurt volunteered. There was a loud "Bamf!" and a puff of smoke.   
  
"We have to tell him not to do that in public." said Jean.  
  
Kurt 'ported underneath the bleachers. He saw Todd clinging to the underside, helping himself   
  
to wallets. "Those don't belong to you." Kurt told him.  
  
"Who the Hell are you?" Todd asked.  
  
"Ah, don't you recognize me?" Kurt turned off his immage inducer. "My face is too cute to   
  
forget."  
  
"Aw, man." Todd groaned, hopping down from his perch. "Not the blue Wookie again!"  
  
"I always thought of myself as more of the Ewok type." Kurt said with a smile.   
  
"Hey, Tolensky!" Todd froze with fear at the sound of the voice. "What do you think you're..."  
  
He saw Kurt. "What the fuck is that thing?!"  
  
"I dunno." said one of Duncan's friends.  
  
"Let's kill it!" another suggested.  
  
"Dog pile!" They chorused. They closed in on Kurt chanting "Dog pile on the demon! Dog pile   
  
on the demon!" Unbeknownst to them, Kurt had 'ported to the top of the dog pile and was hopping   
  
up and down on Duncan's back chanting "Dog pile on the demon!" (2)Todd, grateful that Duncan had   
  
found another target slipped away.  
  
"Dog pile on the demon, dog pile on the demon," Kurt chanted as the behemoths slowly realized   
  
what was going on. "Dog pile on the...uh oh." He went into a quadrupedic gallop to get away from   
  
them.  
  
"There it goes!"  
  
"Let's get him!"  
  
Kurt paid no attention to where he was going. He just needed to get away from those jocks.  
  
They're idiots, he reminded himself. There's only three or four of them and they don't have weapons.   
  
Calm down, Kurt, this isn't Winzeldorf.(3) Kurt bounded onto the street.A semi came inches from   
  
knocking him over. Oh, yeah, he reminded himself. And you can teleport too. He 'ported to the other   
  
side of the street.  
  
"Come back here, you blue monster!" Duncan ran out into the street, not noticing the glare   
  
of headlights bearing down on him.  
  
Kurt saw it. "Look out!" he yelled, pointing.  
  
Duncan turned to see what Kurt was pointing at. The front end of a crosstown bus was the   
  
last thing he ever saw clearly.  
  
Kurt was horrified. The bus stopped for a minute. The driver got out. There didn't seem to   
  
be any passengers. "Holy shit!" the driver screamed before getting back in and driving away fast   
  
enough to leave tire tracks on the pavement.   
  
"Coward!" Kurt yelled at the retreating driver. He went to where Duncan lay. Todd hopped   
  
out of his hiding space and came to inspect the dammage.  
  
"Whoa, did you see that?" Todd asked. "Ka-smack!" He punched one hand with his fist.  
  
The other football players approached.  
  
"Dude, Duncan's hurt." one astutely observed.  
  
"Bad." another realized.  
  
"Let's get out of here!" another suggested before they all ran away.  
  
"We have to do something!" Kurt was concerned at the blood dripping from Duncan's cracked   
  
helmet.  
  
"Yeah, we gotta do something." Todd did something. He took Duncan's hand and stuffed it   
  
down the front of the jock's pants.(4) "Later!" Todd hopped away.  
  
Kurt didn't know what to do. He knew moving Duncan could be dangerous, but so was leaving   
  
him alone in the street. He decided to nudge him to the side of the road and 'ported away to a   
  
nearby pay phone. What was that number again? The Professor said there was a number he could   
  
call if there was trouble. It wouldn't even cost anything. If he could remember it. Nine...something.  
  
Oh yes, 911. That was it. "911," said the operator. "What's your emergency?"  
  
"This guy got hit by a bus!" Kurt responded. "We need help!"  
  
"Where are you located?" the dispatcher said dispationatly.  
  
"We're on Winthorpe Street." Kurt said, reading a sign.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Winthorpe Street! We're at the corner of Winthorpe and Johnson."  
  
"Vinsorp and Yawnzen? Where's that?"  
  
"Not Vinsorp and Yawnzen! Winthorpe and Johnson!" He didn't realize his accent was making   
  
him hard to understand.  
  
"Listen, just stay on the line and I'll trace your call."   
  
"I have to make sure he's OK." Kurt let the receiver hang and 'ported back to Duncan's side.   
  
The jock groaned. He looked up at Kurt, his vision blurred by his own blood.   
  
"Ooow.." he groaned. "I'm in Hell. I don't wanna go to Hell."  
  
"You're not in Hell." Kurt turned on his inducer.  
  
"An angel..." Duncan almost smiled at the beautiful face above him. He reached out to touch   
  
a delicate cheek. His dulled senses didn't notice fur, only softness.  
  
"Nein." Kurt took the hand away. "I am neither angel nor demon. But I have called for help."  
  
"I want my momma." he sobbed.  
  
Kurt held the jock's hand. He wasn't sure what Duncan's religeous beliefs were, but it seemed   
  
he believed in Heaven and Hell at some level. "Our Father, who art in Heaven," Kurt whispered.   
  
"Hallowed be thy name..." Duncan tried to say it with him, but faltered.  
  
The ambulance came just as the other football spectators came upon the scene. "Oh my Gawd!"   
  
squealed some woman."He died while playing with himself!"  
  
"He-he's not dead!" Jean shouted. "He can't be!"  
  
The paramedics removed the helmet and shined a flashlight in his eyes. "Yes he can." said   
  
one, covering Duncan up with a sheet. Jean burst out in tears, sobbing into Scott's chest. He   
  
rubbed her back, comforting her.  
  
"How 'bout you, kid?" One of the medics approached a stunned Kurt. "You feeling OK?"  
  
"He's fine." Scott pulled Kurt away before the medic could touch him and feel fur. "Come   
  
on, Kurt. Let's go home."  
  
Todd entered the boarding house with a jovial "Hi, honey, I'm home!"  
  
"Don't call me honey." Mystique growled.  
  
"Whatever you say, lamb cake." She morphed into a wolf and snarled at him. "OK, OK! Sorry!"  
  
She morphed back into her true form. "I'm going to make a short trip to Chicago soon. When  
  
I return, I expect this house to still be in one piece. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Sure thing, boss lady."  
  
"And for God's sake, will you take a shower already? I didn't take you in because I like   
  
the smell of garbage."  
  
"Alright. By the way, I think Duncan Matthews might be dead."  
  
"Ask me if I care."  
  
"Do you care?"   
  
"GET OUT!" Mystique was growing tired of Toad's antics.  
  
Todd had learned in the past few weeks that when Mystique said to get out, you'd better get  
  
to getting. He leapt up the stairs and paused at the bathroom, debating whether or not to take  
  
that shower. He heard the door slam downstairs. He decided he might as well.  
  
Todd frowned at his reflection on the mirror. He hated the way he looked. He didn't bother  
  
with the soap in the shower. He just let the water flow over him as he collected his thoughts.  
  
Why had Mystique taken him in? She wasn't an irresponsible drug addict like his mother had been,  
  
but she still didn't seem to be the maternal type. It was pretty clear she didn't want him for   
  
his hot young body. She seemed to like finding reasons to yell at him. She had even slapped him  
  
a few times for getting smart with her.  
  
The water was getting cold. Todd turned it off. He dried off, changed into boxers and an  
  
undershirt and laid down on his bed. Well, it's a hell of a lot nicer than the overpass I've   
  
been sleeping under. He asked himself questions he couldn't answer. Why did Mystique allow him  
  
to stay at her house? He got a bed and a roof for free, but he was on his own when it came to  
  
food. No problem. He was an adept shoplifter and flies were free. Why was she gone for such long  
  
stretches? What was she going to Chicago for? Why was he forbidden to go into her room?   
  
Questions that had haunted Todd from the beginning seeped in. Why did everyone hate him?  
  
Ever since grade school, people had decided Todd Tolensky wasn't anything but a target for abuse.  
  
He had tried to make friends before, only to be treated with derision. He sighed. "I really miss  
  
you, Kenny." he said, remembering the only kid he ever met who wanted to be his friend. He wondered  
  
if he was ever going to get anything good out of his life. Well, Duncan was gone. That was a start.  
  
The next day at school, everyone had gathered for an assembly. Principal Darkholm took the  
  
podium. "As you know, last night we lost Duncan Matthews, our star quarterback and beloved friend."  
  
Jean wept silently into Scott's chest. Kurt sat, still in silent shock. "Like many of you, I am  
  
deeply saddened by the sudden loss of such a young life." Todd was suddenly seized with a coughing  
  
fit that sounded suspiciously like "bullshit."  
  
"Duncan Matthews was a good person who will never be forgotten." she continued.  
  
"Yeah, no matter how hard I try." Toad mumbled.  
  
Jean began to sob. Scott stroked her hair. "Shh," he said consolingly. "It's OK, Jean. Don't  
  
cry." He presented a sympathetic front while deep down he was doing a little victory dance. No  
  
more Duncan! Jean's all mine! Yippee!  
  
"An elm tree will be planted on campus to honor his memory. Everyone rise." said Darkholm.  
  
She pressed a button on a stereo and the auditorium was filled with the sound of BoysIIMen   
  
singing "Say Good-bye to Yesterday."(5)  
  
At the X Mansion, Jean got a phone call. "It was Duncan's parents." she said. "They want me  
  
to come to the funeral. Scott, please come with me."  
  
"Of course." He hugged her. Thanks for croaking, Dunc! he thought.  
  
Storm knocked on Kurt's door. "Kurt, time for dinner."  
  
"I'm not hungry, thank you."  
  
Kurt not hungry? Something was wrong. "May I come in?"  
  
A pause. "OK."  
  
Kurt was perched on his balcony, tail securly wrapped around the railing. Storm leaned against  
  
the rail. "Would you like to talk about it?"  
  
"I saw him die. I've never seen anyone die before."  
  
"I know how you feel." Storm realized how empty those words often sounded and decided she'd  
  
better back them up. "When I was a girl, there was an earthquake. I was trapped under my fallen  
  
house and watched both of my parents die."  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
"You have nothing to be sorry for. You feel how you feel."  
  
"When I was about eleven, an elephant fell on my Onkle Gustav." Storm grabbed her lips to  
  
keep from smiling. Not funny. she reminded herself. "Mama covered my eyes and dragged me away,  
  
so I didn't see it, but he died later." Kurt sighed. "Duncan wanted his Mama. That was his last   
  
words. He-he thought I was a demon at first. Then he thought I was an angel. Frau Storm, should  
  
I go to his funeral?"  
  
"Do you want to?"  
  
"I don't know. He and his friends wanted to hurt me. He called me a monster. But still..."  
  
Ultimatly, Kurt opted not to go. He just couldn't bear hearing what a wonderful person   
  
everyone thought this bigoted bully was. Making his last moments somewhat comfortable was more   
  
than he deserved.  
  
Jean sobbed throughout the whole ceremony. Scott held onto her. Six of the biggest bruisers  
  
on the team were pallbearers. "My baby was a perfect little angel!" Mrs. Matthews wailed.  
  
Perfect little devil's more like it. Scott thought. So long, sucker! He tried very hard not  
  
to smile. He had to put up a front of loving comfort. Every one from school was invited to write  
  
a message on the coffin. Scott paused when it became his turn. Somehow, "I got your girlfriend,  
  
neener neener neener." didn't seem appropriate. He settled for an innocious "Good-bye, I'll miss  
  
you." Yeah, like I miss the flu.  
  
Later that night, a strange figure hopped over the iron fence surrounding Quiet Pines   
  
Cemetary. Todd inspected the new headstone.   
  
Duncan Ulysses Matthews  
  
1983-2002  
  
God's Little Quarterback  
  
Rest in Peace  
  
"Ulysses, huh?" said Todd. "And I thought Ichabod was a bummer of a middle name. Hey, your  
  
initials are D.U.M. Dum! That's you alright! 1983. Let's see..." Todd picked up a twig and did some  
  
calculations in the dirt. "You were 19 years old, yo! Thought ya mighta been held back. 'God's   
  
Little Quarterback.' Shyeah, right." Todd rolled his eyes. "Rest in Peace...Should be Rest in   
  
Pieces, yo! Nah, that's old. Rest in Pea Soup! I like that! Oh, speaking of pea, Dunc, guess   
  
what I did to the elm tree they planted at school? Yep. Drank a whole six-pack of Country Time(6)  
  
and let'er rip, yo! Know what I'm gonna do now, Dunc? I'm gonna dance on your grave!"   
  
Todd stood up to full height and started humming the Macerena and doing the movements. "I'm  
  
dancin' on your grave, yo! Whatcha gonna do about it? Yeah, you're not so tough now, Matthews!  
  
Look at me! I'm moonwalkin'. I'm moonwalkin' on your grave, yo!"  
  
"You shouldn't disrespect the dead like that." Todd jumped 20 feet in the air at the   
  
unexpected voice. He landed, turned and saw a boy about 17 years old. He had long brown hair worn  
  
in a mullet and was dressed like a thug from a mid 80's music video."  
  
"Who the hell are you, man?" Todd asked.  
  
"Name's Lance. And you shouldn't disrespect the dead like that. You should disrespect them  
  
like this." He kicked over the tombstone, took a can of spray paint out of his vest pocket and  
  
painted the stone black.  
  
"Coolio!" said Todd. "You got another onea them?" Lance gave him a can of red spray paint.  
  
Todd painted an image of a hand giving the finger.  
  
"Not bad." Lance said appreciativly. "What's your name, kid?"  
  
"Todd."  
  
"Todd Tolensky?" He nodded. "Mystique told me about you. She just brought me over from Chicago  
  
today. Looks like we're gonna be housemates."  
  
"Looks like."  
  
"Wanna go vandalize something?"  
  
"OK."  
  
  
  
Notes:  
  
(1) In every country but the U.S., soccer is called football. Football as we know it is called  
  
American rules football.  
  
(2) Borrowed from an old Bugs Bunny cartoon. Bugs is in a rough part of town and a gang of dogs  
  
decide to dog pile on him. Bugs comes out on top, as always.  
  
(3) In the comics and many fanfics, Kurt was chased down by a mob in Winzeldorf and nearly burned  
  
at the stake.  
  
(4) Borrowed from a running gag in "8 Crazy Nights." Todd reminds me a little of Davey. (The Adam   
  
Sandler character in the movie.)  
  
(5) I went to an inner-city middle school where they played this over the intercom every time   
  
someone got killed in a gang fight.   
  
(6) They dare call this stuff lemonade? 


End file.
